


heavy metal love of mine

by junko (orphan_account)



Series: you make me happy [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Punk, Canon Disabled Character, F/F, Female Bucky Barnes, Female Steve Rogers, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Tattoos, not really but a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie looks at her strangely. “I've literally been home for five minutes,” she says. “Didn't you hear me coming in?”</p><p>Stella blushes red and curls up, defensive. “I'm not wearing my hearing aids,” she mumbles. Jamie curls an arm around the smaller woman and drags her closer.</p><p>“Yeah, sure,” she says, easy-going in a lazy drawl. “Or, there's the real reason you didn't hear me coming in, which is that I'm a Soviet cyborg assassin come to kill you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	heavy metal love of mine

**Author's Note:**

> oop did someone say pre-serum cisswapped stevebucky why yes they did it was me
> 
> title is from guns and roses by lana del ray

Stella is sketching in the living room, toes braced on the edge of the coffee table, sweater sleeves so long that she's constantly pushing them off the page so the charcoal lines won't smudge. Her glasses are drooping a bit low on her nose so she pushes them up automatically, pencil still skating across the paper.

Jamie drops next to her on the sofa so suddenly that Stella shrieks a little, jumping in her seat and throwing her notebook away. Jamie's head falls back as she laughs, and Stella presses a hand to her chest, trying to get her heart to stop hammering.

“Where did you come from?” she wheezes. “And stop laughing, you asshole!” 

Jamie looks at her strangely. “I've literally been home for five minutes,” she says. “Didn't you hear me coming in?”

Stella blushes red and curls up, defensive. “I'm not wearing my hearing aids,” she mumbles, and Jamie looks at her for a moment before shrugging and leaning back. She curls an arm around the smaller woman and drags her closer.

“Yeah, sure,” she says, easy-going in a lazy drawl. “Or, there's the real reason you didn't hear me coming in, which is that I'm a Soviet cyborg assassin come to kill you.”

Stella looks at her with an eyebrow raised before the two of them burst out laughing. Stella settles more comfortably against Jamie's side. Jamie turns on the tv. The science channel is doing a documentary on Dr Jane Foster, and space travel. It's good.

/ / / / / 

They're walking together, arm in arm, back from an art gallery, their cheeks a little pink from the wind. It's not too late, about ten 'o clock, and there are crowds of people around them, walking around, milling. The city that never sleeps, and what not.

They're walking back to the subway, and Jamie is smiling at Stella, who is gesturing widely with her free hand, talking excitedly about the gallery, stumbling over her words a few times. 

Up ahead of them is a group of teenage boys, maybe college-aged, walking towards them and spread out to take up the whole sidewalk. Stella makes to veer to the side, let them pass, but Jamie yanks her back by the arm, straightens her back and keeps walking, straight on. Stella copies her unconsciously, and worries that there'll be a disturbance. 

When they meet, the pair of them refuse to budge, and the group breaks up nervously to let them through, the boys exchanging disturbed looks. Stella and Jamie keep on walking, ignoring them resolutely. 

“What was that all about, Bucky?” Stella asks when they're far enough, feeling a little thrilled and a little scared, too full of adrenaline than walking down the street should require.

Jamie turns to her, her red-painted mouth quirking up. “That was about power, Stella.” Their arms are still linked, and Jamie snakes her hand down to grasp Stella's hand, squeezes it once. 

And the thing is, Stella is still a bit muddled on the details, but she thinks she gets it.

/ / / / / 

Sometimes old ladies in the road stare at them, but other than that they don't attract much attention as a group; this is New York City, after all. 

There's Stella with her stars and her stripes, the backs of her hands and her long artist's fingers outlined in pretty blue ink, the round shield in the small of her back that only a few see. Her pretty blond hair pulled up high to show off the shaved sides of her head, the red tips dancing around her shoulders when she runs – which, granted, isn't often. Bucky likes to call her four-eyes and hipster for her thick black glasses that hide under her fringe, but the fact is that she's the most discreet out of all of them, she thinks.

Bucky is the most attention-grabbing, but Bucky grabs attention just by breathing, with an ease that makes Stella a little breathless, a little incredulous. She has her messy brown hair long framing her face, shaved in the back, with her black-rimmed eyes and red-stained lips smirking and smiling and winking and teasing. When they met, she used to keep cigarettes behind her ears, but she's stopped since then, which is kind of amazing. 

She has more tattoos than anyone in their friend group, with her entire left arm done up in metal and grey and red on the shoulder like a robot arm, with “howling commando” sprawled across her collarbone proudly, her army number on the back of her neck, “Brooklyn” across her hip, and a butterfly on her ankle that she firmly denies having. 

Then there's Natasha, who is kind of terrifying with how pretty she is; all of her ink is done in red. She has the Moscow skyline done on her back, across her pale white shoulders, and it flows down into a point at the small of her back. Stella kind of wants to trace it and wishes she could draw that stylized, but Natasha smiles and pats her on the back when she says so. On both of her wrists she has spiderwebs that wrap around, coming to end in a small spider on her hands. There's a black widow spider behind her ear, visible when she pulls her red hair up into a bun or a clip. It seems like her tats are ever-changing, every part of her covered in swirling red ink looping under and around. 

(The only reason that Sharon isn't as inked as the rest of them is that she not-so-secretly works for the CIA, which Jamie thinks is bad ass and Natasha thinks is lame. But, then again, Natasha claims to be ex-KGB, so who knows if her judgment is sound.)

The four of them walk around and attract a few looks, but not many. Stella remembers the days when she was afraid of anyone other than her mother sparing her a glance; and smiles when she realizes that now it doesn't bother her much, if at all.

/ / / / / 

Stella looks in the mirror, sucks in her breath. Lets it out, feels her lungs work, her heart stutter the way it's done since she was a kid. Teases her bangs, curls the ends of her ponytail, fixes her glasses.

Jamie comes up behind her and wraps her army jacket around Stella's shoulders, and it dwarfs her from how big it is, but it's comfortable and smells nice. She tugs her dog tags over her head and drops them on Stella's, watches them fall around her neck.

“Looking good,” she says, leaning down to press against Stella's neck, leaving red lipstick tracks behind her. 

“Damn right I do,” Stella shoots straight back, and she's grinning as she pulls her glasses off and pushes them on Jamie's nose. “Now who's the hipster, punk?”

“Yeah, still you,” Jamie laughs. She can't see anything with Stella's glasses on, and takes them off and sets them on the bed. “Did you like punks before it was cool, doll face?”

“I liked you before it was cool,” she retorts, and she sticks her tongue out. Jamie sees the little blue stud and can't help it, she leans in to suck on her tongue.

Stella makes an inarticulate noise, and tries to hold onto Jamie's face, but she misses horribly and ends up accidentally hitting her. 

Jamie stumbles, blinking a little, and then has to hold herself up from laughing too hard while Stella turns bright red.

“I can't help it! I can't see without my glasses! Where did you even put them?”

And Jamie will get up and give them to her and help calm down her distressed girlfriend, as soon as she's done laughing, which. Probably won't be for a while.

/ / / / / 

Stella paints Natasha dancing, paints Jamie carefully putting together a bouquet, paints Sharon shooting a gun. She shows her professor, who picks them for an art show, and Stella is one part flattered, three parts proud. 

She drags all of her friends out to see it, alternatively acting as if it's not a big deal or the best day in her life, and it's sort of both. 

Bucky's VA officer even comes to see, and Stella is a little embarrassed to know that Jamie actually talks about her at those meetings, but Sam is bright and friendly and his laugh takes up space, and she thinks that he might be a friend. 

“Man, I still can't believe you work in a flower shop,” he says to Jamie, looking at the painting earnestly. 

“Shut up,” she says, and she punches him in the arm, and he rubs it, wincing. Stella smiles, because sometimes Bucky will get really quiet and then start talking rapid-fire-quick about dahlias and peonies and how a certain type of rose smells, and other days she will spend the morning in a frenzy, making flower crown after flower crown. It clashes with her image so much, but it's just so Bucky. 

“She likes to wear flower crowns on weekends,” she tells Sam, who laughs in surprise, and Jamie turns a violent shade of pink.

“I trusted you,” she cries, and huffs. “I'm moving in with Nat now,” she informed them.

“No you're not,” Natasha calls from where she's looking at the other paintings.

“Guess you're stuck with me then,” Stella says with a wink, and Jamie smiles, her shoulders slumping.

“Guess so,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. Stella stumbles a little.

“Y'all are so cute it's gross,” Sam says, and they all laugh. He isn't wrong.

/ / / / / 

Natasha buys three flower crowns from Bucky's shop and wears them on alternating days for a week, drinks expensive coffee, and gets the spot as prima ballerina. 

Stella is never going to not be in awe of this woman. 

On some days, she and Bucky will only talk in Russian, each one trying to trick the other with complicated words and archaic syntax but the truth of it is that it's fun for them, and they get to practice the tricky syllables and the things they learned a few years ago. 

On those days, Stella smiles and goes over to Sharon's, because she may not be a part of their super secret soviet assassin club, but she respects this thing they have behind them, and she's not going to hang around like a third wheel. 

When she gets back, they're always in a fantastic mood, generally arguing about Star Trek vs Star Wars (which, dude, Star Trek, always), and Natasha likes to take her aside and fill her in on what they did. 

“So, what important political figure did you guys kill today?” Stella asks, and Natasha grins. 

“The president,” she says, and Stella doesn't bat an eye when she says “That's nice.”

God, Natasha is terrifying. She wears platform sneakers and flower crowns and spends her days telling dad jokes, and she is terrifying. 

/ / / / / 

Stella and Jamie are walking in Central Park, and the sun is shining for the first time in what feels like forever. There are flowers planted on the sides of the path, and Bucky is explaining the different types to Stella as they walk. She has her hand tucked into the back pocket of Stella's shorts, and she has a blue and pink flower crown on her head today.

When she stops for a breath after describing Wizard of Oz Dahlias, Stella buts in, “I could draw you a flower tattoo, if you want,” and Jamie stops walking to look at her. Stella looks her in the eye, even though her cheeks are turning red.

Jamie smiles, a small sweet smile. “I'd like that,” she says quietly, and then she bends over to kiss Stella right on the mouth, in the middle of the path, just like that, and Stella wraps her arms around her shoulders and savors it. 

Jamie pulls back with a smile, that confident smirk that Stella always wants to punch and-or kiss off her smug face; and she smiles and turns and starts walking again, and Stella has to hurry after her to avoid tripping over her feet. 

“You could have given me a warning, Buck,” she huffs, and she feels Bucky shake with laughter next to her.

“Nah,” she says, “Wouldn't have been funny otherwise.”

“You're not funny,” Stella says, but she's grinning all the same.

“I am.” Jamie says it like it's final, and the topic drops, so it must be.

It's a nice day.

**Author's Note:**

> i have national exams in seven days kill me
> 
> please leave me a comment telling me what you think!! or come hang out on tumblr at ladydent.tumblr.com or on 8tracks at the same username


End file.
